


Midsommar

by patientalien



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Depression, Gen, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/pseuds/patientalien
Summary: Loki had said the sun would shine on them again. Thor is fairly certain three months of daylight is not what he'd meant.Depression and the Midnight Sun.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Midsommar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatdidyouexpect (youdbetterbeready)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdbetterbeready/gifts).

The guilt hangs around his neck like an albatross, weighing him down and making his steps heavy and plodding, making his reactions slow and blank. No one seems to notice, and that almost makes it worse. There's no one left who knows him well enough to notice that their King is… faltering. 

Loki would have noticed, he tells himself cruelly, rubbing at his temples and wishing the sun would go down. If this is what his brother had meant by the sun shining on them again… Well, Loki always did have a particularly nasty sense of humor. But he would have noticed that Thor, despite the persistent light, is falling deeper into the shadows. 

Heimdall, certainly, would have noticed. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he would have called Thor to the cliffside for sage council, as he had countless times throughout the centuries. Instead, it is Thor sliding on his sunglasses as he looks out over the unending light dancing over the water. 

It's warmer now than it had been when they had first settled, though nowhere near as warm as Asgard. Thor, and everyone else, bundles in sweaters and gloves and hats, while their mortal neighbors don sundresses and tank tops. In the town square, preparations for a traditional Asgardian Midsommar celebration are taking place. A celebration of survival, and of their lost. A celebration of Asgard, now stripped of so much of her glory. Thor lets them prepare, knowing that he will be expected to attend.

On the day of the festival, he gets too drunk to even leave his couch - or, rather, he stays too drunk - and wakes up from his blackout to Valkyrie standing over him, a crown of flowers on her head and an uncharacteristically soft expression on her face. "Are you alright, Majesty?" she asks. It's a question, and a tone, he truly would not have expected from her. 

He gives her a shrug. "Does anyone do curtains?" he asks, his immediate concern the light streaming through the windows. He knows he should be concerned about something else, but his brain is too muddy to figure it out, not with the blasted light shining in his eyes. 

"You were missed," she says. 

"Okay," he replies. "Curtains?"

She sighs. "Thor…" She seems to rethink whatever she was going to say and instead shakes her head. "I'll get you some better curtains," she says. "Do you - need anything?"

Thor considers. He needs a lot of things. He needs to go back in time and stop himself from being a damned fool idiot. He needs curtains that keep out the two-month-long day he hadn't realized was part of life in Norway. He needs to figure out how to keep moving forward. "I need more beer," he tells her. 

She gives him an arched brow. "Do you really?" she asks, gesturing at the large assortment of empties littering the cushions and floor around him. It's not enough; his chest still feels tight, heavy, like he's the one run through with his own sword. His breath still catches like he's the one whose neck is broken. 

"Yeah," he answers. At least until the sun finally goes down.

  
\---------  


Thor is fairly certain he's going insane. The bright light is playing tricks on his eyes, and he's sure he's seeing things that aren't there. He tries to spend his time in a haze because then it's easier. It's much easier to blame his moods and the tricks of the light, and his inability to even walk out into the sunshine on too much drink. It's something Valkyrie, at least, understands, so she doesn't give him grief about it. 

Well, most of the time. 

"Your people are asking where you are," she tells him as he gazes up at her from his spot on the couch. She says it as though it's the truth; as though his people care at all where he is. His gut twists and he grimaces, reaching for the alcohol that will, at least temporarily, wash away the feeling. He doesn't expect her quick reflexes, how her hand snaps out to grab his wrist. "Stop it," she says. "Do you really think this is helping?"

"Did it help you?" he asks, too tired and filled with anxious dread and grief to soften his tone or care how the question might affect her.

She blinks. "No," she says flatly. "You did, though."

Thor yanks his hand away and raises the bottle to his lips. "Yeah, well, that must have been a fluke," he snorts. 

She pushes aside a pile of food wrappers and sits beside him. "It wasn't, but I get why you feel that way. And you're stupider than I thought you were if you think I don't understand how you're feeling." 

Thor stares at her, at the light haloing her head from the window behind her. He closes his eyes and turns away. 

"Thor," she says. 

"Tell them I…" He almost tells her to inform their people that he's dead. But that's hardly fair; there might not be anyone left who knows him, but his very existence is important to them. The last of the Asgardian royal family. Their savior. What a joke. "Tell them I'll be at the next feast day," he says. 

They both know it's probably a lie. 

  
\-------  


His need for darkness leads to heavy, black storm clouds to roll in and stay for a week. He holds back the storm, but keeps the cloud cover for long enough to sleep fitfully for a few hours without needing to drink himself stupid first. He does anyway, because he wants to. 

He lets the skies clear for the feast day. To his own great surprise, he manages to appear in the great hall they had constructed. He nearly turns around and walks out again as he realizes that the small gathering in the hall, the number of people who would be in the royal feast hall at any given time, is all that's left. 

Instead he swallows heavily and gives a little wave when all attention suddenly turns to him. He isn't sure if they expect him to give a speech, and sincerely hopes they don't. He has nothing to say. And if anyone notices that he is the last to leave because he drinks too much to stand, well, no one knows him well enough to say anything. 

  
\------  


"Brought you your curtains, bruv." 

Thor shields his eyes from the harsh sunlight and nods. Korg shifts slightly, as if expecting more, but then busied himself putting up the dark blackout curtains, chattering away about the latest council business. 

As if Thor cares. As if he's ever cared. He never wanted to be king in the first place, even when he thought he did. He wants it even less now that he knows how big of a failure he truly is. In the persistent light, he sees Loki standing there, smirking. Then Korg snaps the curtains shut and Loki disappears with the sun.

\-----------  


Thor sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps. 

  
\--------  


The relief of the darkness keeps him at home as much as possible - which is most of the time. He knows there are responsibilities he needs to attend to, things he must do as New Asgard's ruler. He knows what he needs to do, but he can't bring himself to step outside. Outside is the sun, outside is the bright reminder that life is going on, regardless of Thor's failure. 

When Valkyrie refuses to have any more alcohol delivered, he forces himself to get dressed - to change his pajamas, anyway - and opens the door, squinting against the midday sun. His desire for the continued buffer against his emotions wars with his need for solitude and finally he gears himself up enough to put one foot in front of the other.

It feels like it takes an eternity to collect his supplies and return home and he decides that he isn't going to be making that journey more often than he absolutely has to. 

He has responsibilities, but he can't bring himself to care. Back in the safe, cool darkness of his seaside house, Thor wilts a little more.

  
\---------  


Korg brings over a gaming console to celebrate the town getting Internet access. The Kronan had argued against password protecting the Wifi - something about free access and equal rights, Thor hadn't really been paying attention - and is proud of the strides New Asgard has taken.

Thor tries not to feel bitter about the fact the strides have been taken almost entirely without a king to lead them. Instead, he loses himself in the game and tries not to think about it. "Sun still out?" he asks.

"Yep," Korg replies.

  
\---------  


The day the sun finally sets is warmer than Thor would have expected it to be. He stands alone on the cliff, looking out over the sea, imagining he's got Heimdall on one side and Loki on the other. He takes a step forward, and then another.

A hand closes around his wrist. "Don't, Your Majesty." 

He turns to Valkyrie, and her face is set in a worried frown. "I wasn't doing anything," he protests, taking a drink from the bottle of whiskey that he is sure was full when he came out here. 

"Mmhmm." She tugs his wrist. "Come inside," she says. "The sun's going down."

"It's getting real low," Thor murmurs, and follows her back inside.


End file.
